Alive
by Talitha Koum
Summary: Ash has to come to grips with a few things: Marona is living while he's...not. And that can present a problem when he realizes just how much he cares for her: 'Ash’s heart halted. Or, it would have if it had been pumping in the first place.'
1. Chapter 1

_Dedicated to the Former of my Heart…_

_A/N: I usually don't drop everything I'm working on to post a little something, but this is an exception. You don't have to know anything about Phantom Brave to read the story, either, because I explain most of what's going on…so enjoy!_

ooo

Ash stood to the side and reclined against one of the many marble pillars, arms folded across his chest. He watched casually as Marona, the most famous of all Chromas, once again refuse her rightful pay. Even though she'd spent the better part of the morning wiping out a few monstrous ghosts here and there on the wealthy island. He was neither surprised nor upset. And he wouldn't have been even if he remembered how to feel. Phantoms couldn't. Ash had come to expect it of her. She was too kind…too generous…too perfect. No matter how hard he tried, he simply couldn't understand her.

Marona held her hands behind her back. Her fingers fiddled with a loose thread on her white sundress. She giggled, "No. I insist, Mr. Ruben. Keep your money."

The one that had sent for her (a handsome man in his early twenties) bowed, ever gracious. He was dressed in fine robes of red silk, signifying that he was the _last_ person who desired her charity.

But, then again, Marona didn't need his money either. Not exactly. She'd done very well making ample amounts of bordough. Even when she'd been forced to look after herself at such a young age. Defeating Sulfur (the embodiment of all evil) five years ago was no exception.

No mother or father.

Ash forced his mind from that horrific day. He loathed the memory of Marona's parent's deaths…and his own accident that had led him to be what he was.

"Thank you," the man said. "You may call me Ruben." He smiled at the young lady and she returned it. "If you don't mind me asking-" Ruben tugged at his collar, airing his sweaty neck. "Is _he_ here?"

Marona blinked her large, blue eyes. "He?" She turned and wrinkled her nose playfully at Ash.

"The phantom that's always with you."

The young Chroma nodded. She bit her bottom lip to keep from laughing. "Like you said: He _is_ always with me. Would you like to meet-"

"_No_," Ruben interrupted, a bit frazzled. "I'd just hoped that I'd be able to speak with you privately."

'_In your dreams.'_ Ash moved so that he was only a few feet from their employer, determined not to let him out of his sight. It was one of the very few times that he'd been thankful for his invisibility.

'_Oh,'_ Marona chided. '_Don't be rude.'_ "Whatever you have to tell me, I'm afraid it will have to be in front of him," she muttered aloud, a hint of annoyance in her voice. "He's being awful stubborn today."

Ash frowned at her.

"Well…then." The man situated his linen belt and found a new resolve. "I suppose that's doable."

Ash narrowed his eyes and reluctantly made himself discernable. He didn't deny that he felt a sense of pride as an audible squeak escaped Ruben's lips…stress on the word: _felt_. Ash hadn't been exposed to any sensation in over ten years. Only the memory flooded his being. And even that was becoming more difficult to recreate.

The surprised Ruben swallowed back his fear. "Um…yes." He switched his gaze from the phantom to the Chroma. Beads of sweat were already appearing on his forehead.

Marona giggled at the display.

"I was w-wondering," the man stuttered. "If, perhaps, you'd like to…" He swallowed again and unconsciously eyed Ash out of the corner of his eyes. "…like to dine with me this evening?"

Marona stopped her tittering at once and stood stock-still.

Ash's heart halted. Or, it would have if it had been pumping in the first place. This sort of thing had been happening more and more frequently the past few months. Marona would decide that island life was a bit too boring and therefore take an odd job. There were always rogue ghosts on the loose. And after the mission was complete she'd receive an invitation…

But Ash suddenly realized that his Marona was no longer a little girl. No longer hated. Her reputation of being _The Possessed One_ (a reputation caused by him, no less) was non-existent. And she was now a very gorgeous sixteen-year-old.

He didn't like it. Who were these men to try and woo her? None of them were _remotely_ worthy of her time.  
Ash remembered jealousy, but since he could no longer feel anything, he refused to think that the said emotion had a hold of him now. He ignored it and waited for Marona's response.

"I'm flattered," she said, still smiling. "But I can't."

Ruben deflated.

_That's right_, Ash laughed to himself, callously taunting the man. _She's the most sought-after single in Iviore. The most beautiful, moreover. Yet you can't have her. Even with all your riches._ Who was he kidding? Marona _always_ declined. No matter how well off…how good looking…but why? Again, he didn't understand her. Not that he was complaining.

Ash followed his charge from the grand estate, concealed once again. He couldn't help but notice the lack of a spring in her step and the way she hung her head when they reached the beach. Dejected. Only a few times had he seen her like this…she was strong. Normally Marona wouldn't wear such emotions on her sleeve.

'_Are you alright?'_ he asked.

'_I'm fine.'_

Ash smiled and responded to her lie, _'I know you too well for that line to work on me.'_

Marona picked up her pace, all the while avoiding his gaze. _'I don't want to talk about it.'_

Ash hesitated at her brashness. _'You always tell me everything,'_ he wheedled.

"Please!" Morona cried, rounding on him. "Please, don't ask me!"

A few passers-by exchanged worried glances. They hurried along on their merry way and whispered behind their hands. The folk more than likely knew of Marona's status as the renowned _Phantom Brave_, but it didn't stop them from avoiding her at all costs when she started talking to herself out loud like she was now.

Ash gaped at her, unabashed. Marona _never_ made outbursts like this. Except for when...

She'd pleaded with him not to leave. The time he'd been _so_ determined to take down Sulfur on his own. And she'd shamelessly begged him not to go…that she needed him. Ash pulled himself from the memory, a little embarrassed. He'd been thinking on that conversation more than he should.

Marona spun away. She sprinted toward the ocean where their small boat awaited them, leaving Ash behind to ponder over what she'd said. And the way she said it.

ooo

Ash paced back and forth at the foot of the wooden staircase. He'd chosen not to question Marona as they'd made their way back to the island they called home, but now he was beginning to worry. The girl had disappeared into her room hours ago and there was _still_ no peep from her. By this time, she was usually trying her best to whip up a meal for herself whilst he poked fun at her poor cooking skills.

It was just how these things worked.

If that man, Ruben, had hurt her feelings? Ash'd march _right_ back over and give him a piece of his mind.

But before he did anything so drastic…

Ash climbed to the top of the stairs. He ignored the low-hanging rafter above, passed right through it, and emerged into the attic-like space Marona dubbed her own. She was sitting on her bed, gazing out the window at the setting sun. In her hands cradled the necklace Castile had given her. Even when she'd been opposed and feared. One of her only friends.

Besides him, of course.

Fine. Her only friend…_that was alive_.

Now Marona had more _'friends'_ than she could count.

Ash made a face at the thought. His expression softened as he recalled all the times he'd seen her like this. Daydreaming like a normal girl should. The day he'd found his way back here after his _accident_ to tell her all that had happened. Her father's dying wish: that Ash'd look after her from now on. A few years later when she first started out in the Chroma business...and now.

It was amazing how much she'd changed. And he…well…he was still the same. The _exact _age he'd been killed. When Ash had begun his Chroma training under Marona's parents, their child had been around the age of five while he was eighteen. Now she was only two years younger than he.

It was strange.

"Marona?" he asked out loud.

Her shoulders sagged. She didn't turn around. "Hm?"

Ash approached and stood next to her bed. He felt horrible…or would have if…_you know._ But Ash knew what he should be feeling – he remembered. The fact that he couldn't comfort her like a normal friend tore at him. The fact that his arms were unable to wrap around her shoulders in a hug to where she could sense it… "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine."

He sighed. "You know I don't believe that."

She finally looked at him and the corners of her mouth lifted the slightest of bits. "I just don't want to bother you with something so _silly_."

"Isn't that what I'm here for?"

Marona rested an elbow on the windowsill and dropped her chin into her open palm. "So you're here to listen to the whining of a teenaged girl? I doubt that."

Ash smirked. "You _did_ say that you needed me, remember?"

"And you promised to stay with me forever."

That he had. Ash thought on his promise _constantly_. He'd be there for Marona's twenty-first birthday. He'd be there for her marriage, for her children, for her death. Ash had never regretted anything, but this was cutting it close. He'd rather die all over again than have to watch her grow up, leave him behind, start a family of her own…

But why did he _care_ so much? He should be _happy._

"And ever," he finished. "Yeah. Is that what's bothering you?"

_Does she not need me anymore? Does she not want me here? _

Marona didn't answer for a moment. "…No." She clenched her teeth together and exhaled heavily through her nose. "I've just been thinking. You know when we went to visit Castile and her parents?"

Ash nodded.

"How, after all this time, she's finally able to walk?"

Ash nodded again. Another thing he loved about Marona: she'd given _all_ they had after the last battle so that Castile could finally get better. After all the medication, the treatments, everything had paid off in the end. Though the girl would never be able to move about without the use of crutches, the drastic change from a lifetime spent in a bed was overwhelming.

Marona grinned at the thought of Castile's face when she'd taken her first steps. "Her parents, right before we left, kissed her good-night."

Ash furrowed his eyebrows. She wasn't making sense to him again. "Okay…"

"_See_?" Marona asked, turning her attention back to the scenery. "I knew you wouldn't understand."

Ash rubbed the back of his neck. What had he missed? "You're not giving me much of a chance."

"I just want to know how it feels," she blurted. A blush tickled her cheeks.

"How _what_ feels?"

Marona swiveled around, slung her legs over the side of the bed, and faced him. She held his eyes. Looked long and hard as if trying to read something she couldn't comprehend. "How it feels to-" she broke off, trying a different approach. "Have you ever been kissed?"

Ash was sure he would have turned as red as she if he'd had any blood in his body. "I'm sure I have," he answered.

"You don't remember?"

_Uncomfortable,_ Ash thought. _I should feel uncomfortable…_

He nodded.

"You can't remember your parents." Marona's blue eyes seeming on the verge of filling with tears. "Just like me."

Ash nodded again. "But, even if I did, I wouldn't be able to tell you how a kiss feels. It's one of the things I'm forgetting."

She blinked curiously at him.

"I can't feel, Marona."

"Oh." She said it like she'd misplaced the fact that he was no longer alive…then glanced back outside to see that night had fallen. "Tuck me in?" Marona didn't wait for an answer. She scooted over near her pillows, still in her sundress, and crawled beneath the covers.

Ash obliged. He fiddled with the comforter until a smile graced her lips. Marona snuggled further under her sheets and sighed with content. She looked happy enough on the outside.

"Good-night," Ash said.

"Good-night, Ash. I love you."

She said it every night she asked him to tuck her in. Marona liked Ash to (though she was old enough to care less), whether it was because she'd missed out as a child or because she enjoyed spending time with him. Probably both. But tonight, of all nights, it sounded different for some reason.

Ash mentally kicked himself for entertaining the idea. He couldn't. He couldn't. He couldn't!

Marona's breathing slowed. Ash could tell that she'd fallen asleep.

_He couldn't… _

Ash gauged the distance, leaned forward, and carefully kissed her mouth. He knew she hadn't felt it so he was sure it wouldn't rouse her. Ash prayed for a spark, a tingle, a sensation of any kind what-so-ever.

There was nothing. Like always.

"I love you, too, Marona."

He couldn't fall in love with her…but he knew he just had.

ooo

_A/N: I have no idea why I wrote this. Especially since it's kind of sad. I don't do sad things…so I think I'm going to write another chapter even if nobody reads this. Because…well…I'm a sucker for happy endings. And, by golly, this'll have a happy ending!_

_If you leave a review, I'll get back to you. It's true!_

_God bless!_


	2. Chapter 2

_Dedicated to the One who counts my heartbeats._

_A/N: Yes, I've finally updated this 'one-shot'. It took me long enough, eh? Do forgive me._

_Disclaimer: I do not own Phantom Brave._

ooo

Ash pressed his forehead against the wall. He balled his fingers into a fist and hammered the wood, begging his cursed body to feel something. Unfortunately, once one of the boards collapsed under the force of his hand, Ash was compelled to cease his vent. Listless, he picked the splinters from his knuckles. He was disheartened that there was no blood. There weren't even indications that he'd been skewered.

"Oh, God…"

Ash buckled his knees and fell to the floor. He couldn't understand why he had to suffer this way. Hadn't he been through enough? All he wanted…just one thing…and it was out of his reach. No amount of pleading or praying would change it. Not that he didn't try. _Continuously_.

"Please!" he moaned.

Marona whimpered in her sleep. She tucked the covers under her chin. "Ash…?" Her drowsy eyelids fluttered open to look at him before she snuggled against her pillow to go back to sleep.

Ash breathed a sigh of relief. The last thing he wanted was for Marona to wake up and question him. It would be too much. As he sat there, watching her peacefully resting form…her golden tresses, her honeyed complexion…something within him snapped.

At first, he wasn't sure what he felt.

What he _felt_?

Pain. There was a pain in his chest. But how? He hadn't been subject to sensation in-

The throbbing overwhelmed his thoughts. Ash clutched the area, panting in wonder at what was taking place. Sweat began to trickle down his face. He convulsed. The seizures started out tolerable enough…only to increase in length and fury. A cry escaped Ash's lips; he pulled himself upright. But to his surprise, he wasn't able to support his own weight.

Tripping over his feet, the phantom crashed against the wall. Ash groped for some support. He propped himself up in a secure position with his shoulder.

"What's…what's wrong with me?"

Marona shifted again. She rubbed her eyes. "Ash?"

For whatever reason, the sting in his chest intensified at her query. Ash staggered to the stairwell, intent on having Marona clueless to his episode…and the rafter he normally passed through – the one he always avoided whether he was conscious of it or not – suddenly became…

Ash's head collided with the beam. He hit it with such force, he teetered and, in a daze, toppled down the stairs to land on his back. Thankfully some-what cushioned by the hearth rug. He blinked the moisture from his eyes before releasing himself to the darkness that threatened to take his vision.

Finally. Ash'd been gifted the death he'd so desperately asked for. So he thought.

ooo

Marona sat up in bed. Her heart thumped wildly against her ribcage. "Ash?" She waited for him to appear to her as he always did when she had a nightmare, but he never materialized. "Ash?" she asked again, this time a bit louder. Marona slung her comforter to the side and stood, straining her ears to what she thought was…

Marona hurried to the landing. She peered down to find Ash's body sprawled out on the floor below.

"What happened? Ash!"

She nearly followed in his footsteps, she was in such a rush. Throwing herself at his side, Marona touched his face. The inky substance blossoming from just above his eye (indeed, blood) smeared over her fingertips. She took his jaw in her hands and continued to call him. His cheeks were flushed and _warm_?

Then Marona realized. She was _touching_ him. She could feel his skin against hers as if he were solid. But that...

"Wake up!" Marona ordered. "_Please_ wake up?"

No response.

She buried her face into his neck. Marona allowed the pent up tears to slip from her lashes. She didn't know what was going on…didn't understand _why_ or _how_ this could happen. But she didn't care about that right now.

"You promised me. Forever and ever, remember?" Marona wrapped her arms around his neck. She squeezed with all her might. "You _promised_!"

"Marona…" came a hushed moan in her ear. "You're crushing me."

She pulled away and gasped for breath. "_Ash_! You're alright!"

He nodded. "I'm…" Ash paused. He looked positively thrilled. Almost crazed with excitement. His amber eyes widened. "I'm-"

"_Bleeding_," Marona interrupted. She knew what he must be thinking. She had the very same idea floating around in the recesses of her mind. But she refused to jinx it. Whatever it was.

ooo

Ash watched in a dream as the young woman hurried about the room, locating gauze, ointment, and whatever else she could get her hands on. There hadn't ever really been a need for such first aid – he'd always been there to make sure she was out of harm and, _well_, there was no way for him to take any damage. Besides now, of course.

Marona dropped her supplies on the table where he sat. She rummaged around the lose medications until she found what she wanted. "Hold still," she warned, a small bottle in one hand and a dishrag in the other. Her tired, red-rimmed eyes glistened with worry. "It might hurt."

Ash grinned smugly at her. "Marona, if I can handle the sting of death itself, I think I'll be able to handle this."

_Men_. She ignored him. Marona poured a bit of the antiseptic onto the cloth, dampening a corner. With a steady hand, she dabbed at the gash on his forehead as tenderly as she could.

Ash did his very best not to wince. One: to prove a point. And two: he hadn't been exposed to his pride in years. It came back full force. With a vengeance.

So did other things. Such as his emotions.

Marona was standing _right there_ in front of him, suddenly looking more beautiful than he could ever recall. The moonlight fell through the window above the basin and alighted on her skin. It illuminated in a subtle hue of blue. She was also caressing his face. Absolutely too much for him at this point in time.

There was a sharp intake of breath on Ash's part.

"Oh, I'm sorry." Marona pursed her pink lips and blew on his wound, thinking she'd hurt him in some way.

But that gesture proved to give Ash the sweats more than the dull ache of the anti-bacterial. Boy, she was beautiful. What in the _world_ was he thinking?

"No. I'm fine," he managed.

Marona smiled and Ash looked away. He was surprised at the blush that tickled his cheeks. It was nice. Uncomfortable.

"I know what you need," she told him.

"Really? What?"

"Breakfast." She unraveled the gauze.

"Marona, it's the middle of the night. And you're exhausted."

"Not anymore."

"You can cook breakfast in the morning."

Marona sighed while she dressed his wound. "But-"

"No buts. Go back to bed."

She pouted. It was adorably cute. "Some people say _thank you_." Marona finished tying off the bandage and cleared the table a bit more heatedly than she meant to.

Ash was content with watching.

When Marona started back up to her room, she hesitated. "This isn't a dream, is it?"

"No." He hoped not.

ooo

Marona _did_ go back up to her room and climb into bed as ordered, but she _did not_ sleep. She was too afraid to close her eyes. If all of this was, in fact, just a figment of her imagination, then she didn't want to wake up just yet.

Ash was alive. _Alive_!

And she'd…felt him.

Marona shuddered at the memory. It was strange. All her life she'd never been able to sense the phantom. See him, _yes_. Hear him, _yes_. Touch him…_never_. And it was wonderfully foreign to her. Ash had skin! Just like hers! Well, that was a given…but it pleased her to no end, at any rate. It was so smooth, warm…and smelt of rotting fish. He _had_ been dead for over ten years.

Marona sighed. If this was a dream, then it was a good dream. On the contrary, she wouldn't think that when she woke. More bordering on the lines of cruel.

"_GAH_!" shrieked a voice from outside.

Marona leaned on her elbows and peered out of the window. Ash was walking along the beach. His bare feet sloshed around in the sparkling ocean. Apparently, he'd forgotten all about 'water' and 'cold' coinciding the way his limbs shook…and the way he continued to squeal.

_Priceless_.

Marona smirked. He'd taken off his shoes. The thought struck her as odd that he'd had to wear them for so long. Hadn't seen his toes in _ages_. Now he was finally able.

Marona watched Ash remove his scarf. At that her eyebrows shot into the air. It was almost his trademark, that silly, maroon thing. And he tossed it aside like he'd been waiting to rid himself of the wool for quite some time now. She heard his laughter; her smile grew.

Ash shed his coat. The only clothing left was a white shirt and a pair of black slacks. Marona didn't even know he'd _had_ anything under the jacket. The night he died must have been a cold one. Ash held out his arms, threw his head back to face the clear, night sky, and reveled in the experience.

Marona rested against the window frame. She was happy for him. He deserved to live. To feel.

"Cold-cold-cold-cold-"

Ash strode deeper into the water and dove under the foamy waves. He stayed submerged a good thirty seconds before appearing a little ways to the left, drenched through and through. With a wild shake of his head, Ash then proceeded to scrub himself. He'd obviously smelled himself, too.

Marona continued her observation. After a long swim, Ash fetched his sword and began to practice. Something about gaining back _every single_ one of his nerves all at once must not have been such a good thing. Ash could barely lift the weapon at first. Let alone wield it like she knew he could. But he tried. And tried. And tried.

His persistence was…charming.

Eventually, his work paid off – his muscles were remembering the weight of the cold steel. Remembering the motions: attacks and defensive maneuvers. Satisfied, Ash thrust his blade into the sand. He took several, deep breaths. The silhouette of his chest rose and fell steadily in the darkness.

Then he turned and looked at her. Like he was suddenly aware of another presence.

Marona blushed. She was in for it now. He'd berate her something terrible for not sleeping like she should have.

Ash approached. His brawny arms swung back and forth. "Couldn't sleep?" He craned his neck to get a good look at Marona. His eyes were full of delight. Not disappointment at her lack of obedience.

Marona wrinkled her nose gleefully. "Told ya."

Ash ran a hand through his wild, dark hair. "How about that breakfast?"

ooo

Ash shoveled heaps of pancakes into his mouth, savoring the taste he'd been denied every morning for the last decade. "I'll never make fun of your cooking again," he sighed. "This is _delicious_."

Marona sat across from him, positively beaming. "You're welcome."

A knock at the front door startled them and they shared quizzical glances.

"A call at _this_ hour?" Marona swayed over to the front door. She took a peek trough one of the many, empty knotholes, standing on her tip-toes to do so.

A stupid smile worked its way on Ash's face. He decided then and there that the girl must be an angel. She took his breath away by doing…nothing. His renewed, over-enthused heart was getting the better of him. He didn't know how much longer he could last before admitting what he felt for Marona. Out loud. To her.

"Who is it?" he asked. Ash shook himself from his reverie. For crying out loud, he was a warrior! He should have better control over his emotions than this.

Marona rested her back against the door, her hand against her collar. "It's Ruben."

"What's _he_ doing here?" The bitterness in Ash's voice was unmistakable.

"I…I don't know." Marona closed her eyes. "I don't think I _want_ to know." Even so, her hand strayed to the latch. "But I can't leave him out there, can I?"

_Blast her kindness_, Ash hissed to himself. He stood to his feet as the door swung on its rusted hinges, revealing a nervous and very well dressed Mr. Ruben.

"Good evening, Marona."

"Good evening, sir. May I ask what occasion brings you here?" She stepped aside to let the gentleman in.

Ruben stalked through the threshold, head bowed in thought. It was fortunate for him that he did this. Otherwise, he would have been face to face with one _very_ ticked-off Ash.

Spinning on his heel, their employer turned to Marona once more. "_You_ bring me here," he replied.

Ash scowled. A raging heat was taking over the better part of his abdomen and he gave it permission to swell until his entire body felt riddled with flame. It didn't help that Marona's visage visibly turned a darker shade of red. He knew it was only a matter of time before intimate requests were brought to her front door. She was of age, after all. But still, the over-protective nature of his being consumed Ash's every fiber. He wasn't going to let anyone, and he meant _anyone_, take away what he held so dearly.

"_Me_?" Marona snatched a handful of the end of her dress.

"Yes, _you_." Ruben stepped toward her. Ash followed silently, breathing down the man's neck. He didn't appreciate such forwardness. Especially since Marona didn't seem to replicate the sentiment. "Your beauty, your kindness-"

"Her _reputation_?"

Ruben froze on the spot and Marona's jaw dropped the slightest of bits. "Ash…" She shook her head in an attempt to plead with him not to make a big deal out of the situation. It was too late for that. The man had not only insulted them by barging into their home so late at night, but his advancements were genuinely sickening. Oh, yes. There _would_ be a scene.

Ruben worked up the nerve to face his fear. "Ah. The _phantom_," he said silkily. He found Ash with his eyes and stared down his nose at him. "This is a private matter. I'd like to speak with Marona alone."

Ash squared his jaw. He widened his stance, indicating that he wasn't going to move no matter what anyone said or did. "_Private_ matter?"

"I'd like to ask for Marona's hand in marriage."

"That won't be possible. She's taken."

"By whom?"

"By me."

"_You_?" Ruben chuckled.

"Yes, _me_."

Ruben's titter transformed into a full-bellied laugh. "You can't _marry_ her! You're _dead_!"

Ash snatched the man by his collar and jerked him completely off his feet. "Not anymore," he said through clenched teeth. "Now I think it's time you left. Tell all the other men itching to court my Marona that they're wasting their time." With that, Ash dragged Ruben back to the front door and tossed him out onto the sand. Furthermore, he stood there menacingly in the doorway until he was sure Ruben was gone. In jubilation, Ash watched the prestige and wealth scramble away like his life depended on it…which was true.

"Ash?"

He'd forgotten Marona was there; his pulse fluttered. "I'm sorry." Ash made eye contact with the girl. He flinched at the bewildered expression written across her face. "I didn't mean to…" But he had. Every word, as a matter of fact.

Marona slid her hand into his, nonetheless. "Thank you."

Ash gazed down into her face. That _gorgeous_ face.

"Was that a…"

"A what?"

"A _proposal_?"

Ash lingered close and a ponderous hum escaped his lips. "I made a promise didn't I?" he asked. "Forever and ever. Why do you think I stayed, Marona, when I could have saved myself a lot of grief? When I could have removed myself from this life?" Ash smiled at her surprise.

"Why?"

"Because I'm in love with you." He took Marona's palm and placed it over his racing heart. "Can't you tell?" Ash drew her near. Marona's breath warmed his mouth. "Say yes," he whispered. "Even if it's only for a day. Even if this is just a dream. There's no point in living without you."

"I…" Her eyes filled with tears. "Yes, I'll marry you." His shirt bunched in her fist as she clung to his side. "Is this what forever's going to feel like?"

"No."

Marona blinked at him.

"This is." Ash closed the distance between them and brushed his lips against hers in a simple kiss. This time, a numbing buzz swept down his spine, almost flooring him with its drive. So he pulled away before her mouth could render him useless, though Ash was ill at ease with the requirement.

"My first kiss." Marona felt of her lips.

"Your second." He kissed her again, only to part with her the minimalist of amounts to add: "Your third." And once more. "Fourth…"

Before his time was up, whenever that may be…tomorrow…the next day…or the next. It didn't matter. He felt life in himself again. And Ash was going to ride it for all it was worth. For, truly, it was a priceless thing (and he thanked God) to have full use of every sense, to be loved, and loved in return.

ooo

_A/N: Yeah, yeah, I know, I know. I put a little sappy City of Angel's spin on the whole sha-bang…but c'mon! How else is this going to end right?_

_If you aren't in a coma from over-exposure to fluff and cliché-ness then please leave a review. I'll even mail you back!_

_God bless! _


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